Another Rainy Day Tale
by Alithea
Summary: Shoujoai Content. Alternate Universe setting. Hilde has to face up to what she's just done, and from there decided what she's going to do next.


**Title: Another Rainy Day Tale  
Rating: PG-13  
Characters are property of Gundam Wing and do not belong to me.  
Shoujo-ai content and Alternate Universe setting**

Hilde stared out of the window, watching the rain hit the glass of the windshield, long streams of water sliding off the car in all directions, speechless, and numb to the question. She wasn't sure how to answer. The feel of patient light blue eyes regarding her, cut at her insides. She wanted a simple answer, but all she knew, all she felt, was a paralyzing glance that wanted to love her.

"You don't have to answer," was the sudden, calm, and easy response.

The car started again, and Hilde released a breath of anxious relief. Crossed her arms over her chest, and sank into her seat. After an hour of unending silence the car pulled up to a small red house that looked a little worn and tired.

The windows were fogging over as the vehicle sat. Finally, Hilde reached out to open the car door, the cold and wet weather hitting her insides with little effect. She slid out, pulling her jacket around her, though she couldn't think why.

"If I call you, will you pick up the phone," the driver asked before Hilde could make a proper escape.

"I don't know," was the honest answer she could give. "I never said I was perfect, Sally," she whispered as her foot reached the pavement, sneaker immediately soaked through.

"I never thought you were." Sally replied with a touch of regret. "I just wanted to take you away, just for a moment."

Hilde sniffed and exposed the rest of her body to the storm, slamming the car door behind her. Wet and soggy sneakers squished in the mud as she trampled the flooded grass to her front door. She never looked over her shoulder. She knew Sally would sit and wait until she was inside before leaving. And, as expected, the minute the slightly warped wooden door popped open Hilde heard the engine rumble off.

She took a deep breath, removing her damp shoes and sweater. Brushed a hand through her dark mop of hair, and eased her way into the kitchen. Dug around her cupboards for some coffee, and failing that, placed a kettle on her stove to boil water for tea.

Warmth, after the long ride home, she wanted warmth. Even if she didn't think she deserved it.

The radio was on, and she had a fire going. Huddled at the end of her sofa, clutching a cup of herbal tea, and wishing her heart would stop doing somersaults as her mind played over the events of the day. She should never have said. She should have kept quiet, and ignored the request.

"But you didn't," she reminded herself.

It had been such a terrible day. Moods matching the weather in every aspect, and she would be first to admit the mistake she made. The fire crackled, and the memories sparked. She never knew she could ruin something so quickly.

She brought her hands to her lips. The sin was still fresh and lingering.

How could she be so selfish?

What was she thinking, accepting Sally's invitation?

She shook her head.

Sally didn't invite. No, the cool and casual medical student merely listened, and then when all control fell to ash at a lightening strike, the older woman merely slid into what Hilde let loose.

And he saw it all.

Lukewarm tears graced her cheeks, and she wiped them away.

He didn't yell. He didn't demand an answer. He just slipped out of the room the way he had entered. She had wanted to run after him to explain, but he vanished, and then collected and calm Sally offered to drive her home.

She set her tea on the coffee table, pulled the wool blanket at the other side of the couch over her, and watched the fire die until she was asleep.

The phone rang, and there was a knock on the door. She let the machine pick up the messages as she ambled over to the door.

The deadbolt clicked away and she opened the door slowly.

He was soaked through to his skin. Dark eyes hurt and lost as he trembled in the rain.

"Is it my fault," he asked timidly.

"Do you want it to be," she replied. "Come in out of the rain, Trowa."

He shook his head. "Tell me why."

Caught in the doorway the warmth of the house intruded the chill of the still raging storm. She leaned into the door jam unsure of what to say, biting back her weak side as she kept herself from crying any further.

"Hilde, tell me."

She shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to watch his reaction. "I don't know, but it's nothing to do with her…because, honestly, it could have been anyone. Maybe…" She trailed off folding her arms around her to avoid falling apart. "Maybe it was revenge."

"Then you never forgave me."

"I guess not." She choked the words out, opened her eyes, and found she was not nearly as strong as she wanted to be. He looked so miserable. "I wanted to," she whispered.

Trowa shivered as the rain fell harder, punishing the world for past crimes. "Then there's nothing left."

"I guess not." Hilde focused on the ground. The pattern of the water as it pattered off the cement into the flowerbeds, and the dirt patches that never grew anything colorful. "You'll catch your death if you stay out in this weather." She finally managed to say, whisper, plead.

"Don't worry about me." He said.

"Don't say things like that. I don't want you to get sick. At least come in for a change of clothes?"

He shook his head again, half his face now hidden by wet and dark hair. "I'll warm up later."

"With him," she muttered and she never meant to say it out loud.

"Maybe."

The answer stung.

"Hilde…I-"

"Obviously, it doesn't matter who did what or why. We both fucked up. We both know it doesn't matter anymore. So, why don't you go back to him and I'll…" Hilde sniffed. "I'll do what I'm doing."

If she had cared to look him in the eye she would have seen concern and care he still held for her, but she didn't. She listened to the sound of his shoes on the grass stepping away from her. Ending whatever it was they had. Was it ever love? Was it just convenient for both? Why did it hurt? Why did it matter?

The door shut loosely behind her and she curled back into her spot on the couch, waiting for sleep to replace her sorrow. Her eyes hit momentarily on the flashing light of the answering machine, but she ignored it.

Her eyes opened to darkness. The inside of the house was still and freezing, the outside was still and damp, recovering from the rain. She sat up slowly, switched on the small reading lamp next to the sofa, and hugged the blanket close to her as she moved to turn on the heater before reclaiming sleep. That's all she wanted to do, sleep, and dream of nonsensical things.

The heater started with a roar. Slow and steady heat rose from the floor vents, and before she could escape to her room the doorbell rang. It wouldn't be him.

She didn't want it to be him.

Hilde wiped the sleep from her eyes and shed the blanket she had been dragging around on the floor. She opened the door and huffed with irritation. A lazy and calm half smile greeted her discontent.

"I got worried."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sally played lightly. "You haven't answered your phone, and Trowa-"

"I don't want to hear about it," Hilde cut in.

Sally sighed. "Defensive already, I'm sure it went well between you two." She folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not here looking for anything if you're wondering."

"I'm not. I'm-," she deflated into the door jam. "I'm tired."

"Then let me tuck you in."

Hilde shook her head, and then led the way into her house. She wondered how it was that Sally didn't have a million girls following her around. The woman had such an unrefined charm. The kind of restful tone and demeanor that made Hilde want to crawl into Sally's arms and never leave. She shook her head. She was pathetic.

The door shut with a light thud and she plopped into the couch. A whispered chuckle made her look over at the older woman. Older? Not much older a year maybe, not much more than that. But Sally seemed older, and wiser, again it was that steady calm exterior, the small grin tugged at her lips.

"I thought you wanted to go to bed?"

"I'd rather you didn't tuck me in."

Sally nodded, sitting in the wooden rocking chair across from the couch. It made Hilde grin. No one ever sat in the rocker. Most thought it too uncomfortable, but Sally, she was perfectly at ease, using one foot to slowly rock the chair back and forth in quiet creaks.

"It could have been anyone, right," Sally asked after a slow wall of silence passed.

"No," Hilde answered before she could catch herself. She brought her knees into her chest and focused on the flash of the answering machine, all the unheard messages that carried Sally's voice, concern, questions, and she didn't have a real honest answer, or not any she wanted to give. She waited for Sally to respond or make a noise, but there was just the low steady squeak of the rocker. "I'm too tired to have this discussion right now."

"Ah, but when you're more awake you won't be as honest."

"It wasn't calculated, you know. At first, I just really wanted to talk to someone. Get all the frustration off my chest. Then it changed, and it wasn't really revenge, though it plays better that way."

The rocker stopped and Sally's light footsteps brought her over to the couch. She set herself on the sturdy coffee table and leaned over to touch Hilde's hand.

"Hilde, look at me."

Violet-blue to a paler shade of the sky, eyes met, and Hilde didn't know what to say.

Sally used her thumb to brush away a few strands of Hilde's dark hair, lightly touching upon stains caused by rain and tears, feeling the flush of young woman's cheeks.

"You need sleep and a good meal," Sally whispered. "I'll tuck you in, and give you a call in the morning."

"What?"

"And you can decide what want when you're ready."

"But-"

"Shhhh." She placed a finger over Hilde's lips. Took her by the hand and silently requested her to stand. Sally grinned and placed her lips on Hilde's forehead. "You have a fever," she muttered.

Befuddled Hilde shook her head and walked towards her room. Sally followed close behind.

"When you're well," Sally stated, leading Hilde over to the bed, "you can answer the question I asked you in the car."

"When I'm well…" It was half question half reply, and Hilde felt her eyes close as she slid into her bed, the warmth of the down comforter taking her to slumber with a kiss on her cheek.

Sally sighed, turning out the lights, and shutting the bedroom door. It was sure to be an interesting morning.

The End.


End file.
